**Diary Entry 12th October**
This morning, as I strolled along a quiet country lane just outside Norwich, enjoying the rare peace before the world woke up, something odd caught my eye.
Rounding the bend was a German Shepherd, walking with steady purpose, completely unfazed by its surroundings. Clenched firmly in its jaws was a large white plastic bagbulging slightly, as if it held something heavy. The dog moved with slow, deliberate steps, like it knew exactly where it was going.
I edged closer to the verge, not wanting to startle it. The dog reached the corner where, out of nowhere, a car pulled up. The engine stayed running as the driver leaned over, snatched the bag from the dogs mouth, and sped off without a word.
What in the world? I muttered, baffled.
The dog, unbothered, turned around and trotted back the way it came, as if this were just another ordinary day.
I carried on home, but the image stuck in my mind. I tried brushing it offjust some bizarre one-off, surely.
Yet the next morning, the same thing happened. Same time, same spot. The Shepherd with its bag, the car swooping in.
Curiosity got the better of me. I followed at a distance, careful not to be seen. After delivering its cargo, the dog veered onto an old backstreet and stopped at a rundown cottage on the outskirts of town. My stomach dropped when I realised what was going on inside.
The door cracked open, and a blokeThomas Whitfield, as I later learnednodded at the dog like it had done its job properly before letting it in.
The next day, I crept closer. The curtains were drawn, the place dead quiet. Peering into the yard, I spotted crates stacked in the shed, reeking of chemicals. Inside, under a harsh kitchen light, Whitfield was portioning white powder into bags while the dog sat obediently beside him, waiting for its next errand.
A chill ran through me. It was obvious nowthe dog was a courier for drugs. Whitfield knew the police would be watching him, so hed come up with this twisted scheme. Whod suspect an innocent-looking dog?
The car was just collecting the goods while he stayed untouchable.
Hands shaking, I dialled 999.
Days later, headlines spread across the county. Whitfield turned out to be the ringleader of a local syndicate. As for the Shepherd? Just a poor creature trained into something it never chose to be.
**Lesson learned:** Evil finds the most unassuming disguises. Sometimes, the quietest roads hide the darkest secrets.
